Drugged
by SophieRomanoff
Summary: When Natasha is drugged on a mission, it falls to Clint to contact the Avengers for help. Will they be able to get back to Bruce in time for them to find the antidote? What will Clint do? Day 18 of prompt challenge. Includes slight Science-Boyfrieneds.


Hello! Welcome to day 18 and if you enjoy, please leave a comment, they're my fave Christmas present! Tw for drugs, obviously, mentions of suggested sexual abuse, not rape, whilst drugged, mentions of accidental self-harm (doing it in the moment and not realising) and I think that's it.

Translations: (may be wrong alright bear with me)

ty so mnoy? – are you with me?

Ne trakhaytes', kosnites' menya, ya razorvu gorlo – do not fucking touch me, I'll rip your throat out

Natalia, YA ne zdes', chtoby prichinit' tebe bol' – Natalia, I'm not here to hurt you

Vy dumayete, chto ya glup? – you think I'm stupid?

Net Talia, YA zdes', chtoby vy chuvstvovali sebya luchshe. Khorosho podumay. Ty znayesh' menya – No, Talia, I'm here to make you feel better, think carefully, you know me

Kotyonok- kitten

Moya Zvezda – my star

This is the first one (other than grief) that is set post-avengers. Tony, Bruce and Cap are in this chapter a little. Enjoy!

DRUGGED

When Clint found Natasha in their marks room, she was unconscious across the bed. Her dress had been ripped and her bra was hanging off the side of the bed.

Their mark was spread across the floor, blood spilling out from under him, his throat torn clean so Clint could see the veins and tendons underneath. His dark eyes stared unseeing but Clint paid him no mind.

He pulled his jacket off, placing it on the bed as he moved towards her.

His fingers measured her pulse, pursing his lips as he felt the frantic, skipping beats beneath his touch.

Cursing, he scrambled to find Natasha's comms device, slotting it into his ear.

"This is Agent Barton, does anybody copy?"

Silence met him and he scanned the room, trying to find a reason for why she was passed out.

He found the needle easily, cursing and breaking the needle part off carefully. He slid the part holding a little of the liquid into his pocket.

This was their first mission with Shield since Phil had died. He wanted desperately to hear his voice in his ear but instead the comms crackled and went dead.

Pulling out his phone, he dialled one of the numbers and pressed it in between his shoulder and ear as his hand reached down to peel back Natasha's eyelids.

Her eyes were completely rolled back, bloodshot and glazed.

Just then the sound of ringing in his ear stopped and a voice started speaking.

"You have reached the life model decoy of Tony-"

"Shut up, Stark." Clint growled. "I need your help, more specifically, I need Bruce's help."

"What's up, Katniss?" Tony asked easily.

"We're on a mission. Comms are down. Widow has been drugged and is unconscious. I need a, evac and b, Bruce to find out what the hell she's been given, and c, him to help her."

"I'm finding your location now." Tony said quickly, the sound of tapping in his ears.

"I've got it. I can either send a jet, or I can come get Natasha and bring her here. Depends how quick she needs to see Bruce."

"Hold on." Clint murmured, taking her pulse again and checking over her body.

"I'd say pretty quickly. Her pulse is...erratic to say the least. She's freezing cold and her breathing sounds off. We can't wait for a jet."

"Understood, leaving now. A jet will be leaving shortly to pick you up."

Clint sighed, hating to leave her but knowing she needed to see Bruce sooner rather than later.

Clint lifted her top half, sliding the jacket around her and gently pushing her arms through the sleeves. He zipped it up and tried to pull it to cover her lower half.

She was in only underwear, ripped up tights and the jacket, but there was nothing that could be done about it now.

He rolled her into the recovery position and rubbed her calves with calloused fingers to try and get her blood flowing.

Then it was just a waiting game.

He checked her pulse every five minutes, finding it weaker and with even more skips each time.

Her breathing was ragged and wet sounding, so he had no doubt there was fluid in her lungs.

Apart from that, he had no idea what the drug was doing. What it was doing to her body, to her brain.

He had half an answer when she began seizing. It was definitely doing something to her brain; he had no idea what though.

He gently tucked a pillow under her head, counting out loud as she spasmed and jerked under his oh so gentle touch on her forehead.

He was careful not to hold her down, knowing she would injure herself badly if that happened.

Soft grunts left her lips as she arched back, a little blood spraying across her lips.

Then she was still, agonisingly so, and with a shaky hand he measured her pulse again.

Weak. Very weak but still there. Still breathing.

"Hawkeye, I'm coming through the window. Stand back."

Clint jerked up, leaning over Natasha to shield her as the window exploded.

Grunting, he pushed himself off, gathering Natasha in his arms.

He carried her over to Tony, who was now inside the room.

"Take care of her. Get her to Bruce and I swear to God, if you let her die, my arrows are going straight through that suit and into your soft and squishy parts. Got it?"

"Soft and squishy parts, understood." Tony murmured. "You're a psychopath, Barton."

He said nothing in answer to that, just passed his partner, best friend and girlfriend over to him, then the rest of the needle.

Tony, for all his jokes and playing around, cradled her gently.

"She'll be okay, Clint." He said stiffly before backing up and shooting out the window, his repulsors firing and taking him as quickly as they could.

...

When Tony slammed through the door with a shaking, unconscious woman in his arms, it took Bruce a good few seconds to realise it was Natasha.

"Put her down." He ordered, immediately holding his hand out.

"Set up the lab, send this down and stay with it. Jarvis knows what to do, as soon as the results are in, you come to me."

"Yes Sir." Tony muttered, placing Romanoff gently on the bed.

He shed his suit and left it where he stood as he took the broken needle down to the lab.

Bruce placed the earbuds of the stethoscope in his ears, unzipping the jacket to get better access. He paid no mind to her nakedness, placing the circle against her ribs.

He listened carefully, able to hear a distinct crackling sound coming from her lungs, as well as the pulsing, off beats of her heart.

He placed the stethoscope down and quickly decided what the most pressing issue was.

The fluid in her lungs would keep accumulating until they found what drugs were pumping through her.

She would drown before her heart gave out.

Talking himself through it, he grabbed an empty, sterile needle and braced her back against the bed.

In one fluid motion, the needle was stabbing through skin and tissue and into her left lung. He pulled the plunger, the tinged pink liquid filling the barrel of the needle. The next pull and it came out half full.

He moved to her other side, pressing the needle into the other lung.

When that was done, he returned with the stethoscope, pleased to find the crackling a lot lot better.

He could however, feel the struggling gallops and jumps of her heart.

They needed those results and soon.

He gently pressed her onto her back, slipping an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth.

He attached wires to her chest, getting her vitals up on the screen.

Her blood pressure was way too low to be healthy, and it made sense when a couple of seconds later she was seizing.

He cursed, sliding something soft under her head and making sure she didn't hurt herself.

He didn't want to give her diazepam, in case it interacted with the drugs she'd been given so he just had to watch.

When she stilled, her vitals were worse, her heart struggling. It wouldn't be long until she went into arrest and he felt the Hulk rearing in his mind.

"Not now. Spider needs help." He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He touched her hair, calmer now, smoothing the red locks off her forehead.

He kept his eyes on the screen, and the minute he saw the erratic beats still into a line, he was ready.

He pushed down on her chest, compressing hard and fast.

"Jarvis, tell Tony to hurry up." He hissed, counting in his head.

Tony burst through the doors a few minutes later, a vial in his hand.

"I have it, is she-" he froze as he took in the flat line across the screen.

"Adrenaline, quickly, I'll load the antidote." Tony pushed past him, yanking down everything he needed.

Bruce had a needle of adrenaline ready, wincing and whispering an apology before slamming it down into her chest, piercing her heart and depressing the plunger.

He was immediately back compressing her chest, pushing the medicine around her body.

Tony sidled up beside him, gently sliding the needle of the antidote into her neck.

Bruce continued to give her compressions, and finally the quivering of her heart registered on the screens.

He measured her pulse with his fingers, out of habit, nodding in relief.

"She's stabilising." He said quietly, exhaling shakily.

Tony gently squeezed his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his temple.

"Good job, Bruce." He said softly.

"Let's get her covered up."

...

An hour later, Clint was barrelling through the doors, walking into the chaos.

Natasha was growling and snapping in broken Russian, spitting and jerking.

Steve was holding her shoulders down whilst Bruce tried to talk her down.

"Clint." Tony breathed. "Thank fuck."

"What's going on?" He murmured, pushing into Natasha's line of view.

"We gave her the antidote, but it's still lingering in her brain. Sedation or restraints?" Bruce ground out.

"Restraints, I can calm her down." Clint murmured, nodding at Steve.

Bruce quickly wrapped the straps around her wrists and ankles and gestured at the others to leave.

"I'll be outside the door, there's a sedative over there if you can't bring her down." Bruce said softly.

Clint nodded and stepped closer to her, taking one hand. He winced as he saw the deep scratches along her arms, blood under her nails.

"Natasha." He murmured. "Natasha, ty so mnoy?" He asked, tapping her cheek.

"Ne trakhaytes', kosnites' menya, ya razorvu gorlo." She growled, acid in her tone.

"Natalia, YA ne zdes', chtoby prichinit' tebe bol'." He murmured, brushing his thumb over her cheek.

"Vy dumayete, chto ya glup?" She spat.

"Net, Talia, YA zdes', chtoby vy chuvstvovali sebya luchshe. Khorosho podumay. Ty znayesh' menya." He watched her bloodshot eyes follow his every move.

"My name is Clint." He said softly, in English, hoping to pull her mind back to him.

"I'm your partner, I'm not going to hurt you."

"I will hurt you." She growled, accent thick with emotion.

"No you won't." He said softly. "You know me, Natasha, you're my best friend."

Her gaze clouded, her head tilting in confusion.

After a couple of minutes, a lot of blinking and starting sentences only to stop talking, Natasha lifted her head.

"Clint?" She asked thickly, her tone wavering and nervous.

"Natasha." He breathed. "Welcome back. You're at the tower, we were on mission and you got drugged. You've been given the antidote and you're okay, you're gonna be confused for a bit."

She certainly seemed very out of it.

"What happened?" She whispered.

"I...you don't remember me telling you?" He frowned.

"Bruce!" He called, his hand on Natasha's face. She was freezing still and he covered her naked top half with a thick blanket.

"What's wrong?" Banner asked softly, coming beside them.

"She's forgotten what I've been telling her. It's only been a couple of minutes."

Bruce nodded and picked up his torch, gently shining it in her eyes.

"The drug is still in her system. She's going to be pretty addled for a while. I'd like to keep her here until she's surer of where she is."

Clint nodded, leaning to undo the restraints.

"Is that a good idea?" Bruce asked softly.

"Yeah, it freaks her out a lot more. She won't hurt herself, she's just confused."

Bruce nodded. "I'll be in the lab with Tony. I'm going to do a more in depth test on the drug."

"Thanks, man, I'll call Jarvis if I need you."

Bruce nodded and left, Clint sitting on the bed with Natasha.

He held her to his chest, answering questions over and over again.

Later that night, she sat up, facing him.

"Clint." She breathed, her eyes clearer.

"Natasha, sweetheart." He murmured. "How are you feeling?"

"Rough." She said flatly. "I know where I am now."

"Good. Christ, Tasha, you scared me."

"Sorry, kotyonok." She hummed, leaning tiredly into his waiting arms.

"You're alright now, Moya Zvezda. I've got you."

She closed her eyes, drifting off into a sleep her body desperately needed.

"I love you, Nat." He whispered, stroking her hair.

"I always will."


End file.
